


five ways carmilla could have met laura

by natcsharomanova



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, F/F, Laferry Child, Neighbours AU, primary school AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-03-26 23:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13868052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natcsharomanova/pseuds/natcsharomanova
Summary: and five ways they would have still fallen in love.





	1. get out of my school!

**Author's Note:**

> ‘when i was 7 i had a crush on a girl in my class & didnt know how to deal w it so i wrote her a letter that just said “get out of my school”’ - @lindzeta on twitter

Carmilla was swinging her legs as she sat on the chair in the headteacher’s waiting room, hands under her thighs after Mattie had swiped her nails away from her mouth too many times. Not that she was nervous - because she was seven now and she didn’t cry in public anymore and her hair was even longer than Mattie’s! But something about the waiting room was still a bit too much for her; the posters on the walls, the loud noise of the ticking clock, the fact that she was in trouble again.

“Maman is going to be angry with me.” She didn’t phrase it as a question. There was no need to. Mattie sighed, resting her hand on her younger sister’s knee in comfort. Carmilla began to feel worse; her mother was going to be mad when she got home, and her sister had to miss work again to deal with her rebellious sister, whilst perfect Will stayed perfect.

Mattie didn’t reply. Perhaps she was about to, but before she could more people entered the waiting room - an older man, whose energy conveyed youth but balding head suggested otherwise. Behind him followed his daughter, looking shorter than usual next to her father’s height. Her hair was in a fishtail braid - Carmilla was impressed that her dad could do that - and her shirt had little ladybugs on it.

She was whispering something at her dad, tugging at his hand to try and get him to leave the room - a futile effort, but a noble one nonetheless.

Seeing her, Carmilla’s heart began to beat faster. If she was still six, she would have hidden her face in Mattie’s shoulder and cried. Luckily she was too old for that now.

“Are you Mrs Karnstein?” the man - Laura Hollis’ dad - asked Mattie, approaching where they were sitting with his hand reaching forward. Mattie stood, and Carmilla’s knee immediately felt cold. “My mother was otherwise engaged. I’m Carmilla’s older sister,” she replied, shaking Mr Hollis’ hand and speaking in her adult-voice which she never used when playing with her siblings. 

Mr Hollis nodded, still ignoring Laura’s whispered protests (not that she was a very good whisperer - Carmilla would laugh if she wasn’t using all of her concentration trying to become invisible). 

“Now, Carmilla explained to me what happened here, and I think you’ll agree that a meeting with the principal is a little drastic,” Mattie continued, and Carmilla made a mental note of the word ‘drastic’ to ask about later. She loved learning new words from her sister, especially when she got to repeat them in class and the teacher would give her a gold star and Laura would look at her from across the carpet with wide, impressed eyes. Mattie was smiling - her professional smile, not her fun one - but Mr Hollis was not returning the gesture.

“I’m afraid I disagree. This school has a strict anti-bullying-- Laura, honey, why don’t you go sit down?” Mr Hollis interrupted himself, forced from his train of thought by Laura progressing from tugging at his hand to pushing on his torso with all of her force. She huffed when he didn’t even budge, and threw herself down on a chair two-away from Carmilla. 

There was thunder in her eyes, and with her arms crossed, Laura looked more menacing than the really tall kids in their class. She looked cool, and pretty. Which was exactly why Carmilla was in this mess.

“Yes, this school is, is strongly against bullying so I am glad that some action is being taken. Now, I’m sure, uh, Carmilla didn’t want to be mean, but--”

Laura’s dad was cut off again, this time by the two seven-year-olds in the room, crying out simultaneously.

“It wasn’t bullying!”

Mattie and Mr Hollis went silent, the former looking slightly impatient (having heard this argument from her sister at least three times now, despite her attempts to explain to her that written threats did count as bullying), and the latter looking surprised at his own daughter’s outburst. Carmilla met Laura’s eyes, shocked also - she knew it wasn’t bullying, because whilst her words might not have seemed very nice, her reasoning behind them was far from wanting to hurt Laura. But why did Laura know that? How could Laura know that? When she handed her the letter - or, more accurately, when she ran past her in the playground, threw the letter into her arms, before running off to hide behind the swings - she hadn’t been able to see Laura’s reaction. But her teacher had told her Laura was confused because she thought they were friends, and before Carmilla could explain anything to anyone, she was being sent to sit in the principal’s office, again.

She decided to stay silent. Maybe it would be better if Laura didn’t know the real reason. Then she would be really sad. Or maybe even angry. Carmilla didn’t want to find out.

“It wasn’t bullying,” Laura repeated, sitting up and exuding confidence despite her tiny frame. “Carmilla is my friend. She shares her lunch with me and when Theo pushes me over she yells at him and comes with me to get the plasters, and she tells funny jokes, and she knows really big words.”

Carmilla blinked, trying to fight the grin off of her face, though she was sure she lost that battle. Mr Hollis was looking strangely at her daughter, like he didn’t understand why she would stand up for the girl who wrote her a letter, written in red ink because it’s her favourite, and signed with ‘Yours Sincerely’ because Maman always told her that that’s what you use when you know the person you’re addressing. The letter with wonky words because she was scared of them, and smudges around the edges because she was rushing. The letter that told her (only) friend to get out of her school, because every time she saw her, her heart beat got faste, she blushed, and she wanted play Laura’s weird fantasy games with her. Carmilla did not want to feel like that anymore. She wanted to be how she was before Laura joined their class - cool, like a grown-up. Not like a little girl.

But how was she supposed to explain that to Laura’s dad, her sister and the principle?

She was a brave girl. She would try.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” she whispered, swinging her legs again to help her get the words past the growing lump in her throat. Mattie had sat next to her again, her hand on her shoulder this time, and Mr Hollis averted his gaze from his daughter to look expectedly on Carmilla. “Laura’s my best friend ever but -- it’s like when we went on that roller coaster, Mattie.” Her sister frowned at the turn in conversation, quirking up an eyebrow; a silent encouragement to continue. “When you took me and Will on that roller coaster, I told you it felt like my heart went into my mouth, and my stomach went into my legs. And that I didn’t like that feeling.”

Mattie nodded, still curious as to where Carmilla was going. Mr Hollis stayed silent, but was growing impatient - the meeting with the principal was still a few more minutes away, and it was clear he just wanted to get some justice for his daughter. Laura was sitting crossed-legged on her chair, any grumpiness having left her face, replaced with a pretty mixture of amusement and bewilderment. 

“I’ve never been on a roller coaster before,” she spoke, her voice soft but audible. Carmilla took it as a reason to continue.

“When Laura laughs or gets cupcake frosting on her nose or reads me her stories or plays dragons with me, it feels like I’m on a roller coaster again, and...and I don’t like it.” Her last words were forced through gritted teeth. Carmilla was trying her best not to let the tears welling in her eyes fall out - she wasn’t upset, but she was so frustrated at how hard it was to articulate her feelings that she wanted to scream.

Carmilla didn’t know what reaction she expected from the adults, but Mattie grinning - genuinely, not professionally - and Mr Hollis barking out a peal of laughter was far from it. She had expected more yelling, or more questions - anything else, really. What had she said that was so funny?

Laura was smiling, playing with the strands of hair that had fallen out of her plait. Carmilla realised that maybe she hadn’t lost her friend after all.

“Is that like when you have butterflies?” Her question was directed at her father, who had managed to control his laughter, sharing a knowing look to Mattie. It must be another thing that only big people get. “Because sometimes I get butterflies because of Carm and I thought it was because I ate too much sugar but --” her words trailed off as she jumped off of the chair, walking over to stand in front of Carmilla. She reached out a soft finger and brushed away one of the traitorous tears which had accidentally fallen out. “The butterflies don’t hurt. They just feel a bit funny. You don’t need to cry.”

Laura didn’t know as many big words as Carmilla did, but even her small ones made her fall silent, eyes wide as she stared at the ladybugs on Laura’s shirt, unable to meet the power of her gaze. Laura wasn’t making fun of her - Laura would never make fun of her. She was being nice. Being her friend.

“Maybe we should set up a playdate for them,” Mr Hollis suggested to Mattie, a hint of amusement still in his voice. Mattie affectionately ran her hand through her sister’s curls, her smile wider now on her face. Carmilla still didn’t know why her mistake and Laura’s reaction was so funny to them, but if she was getting to spend more time with Laura because of it, then she didn’t care.


	2. flick the matchmaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lafontaine and perry's daughter (felicity, aka flick) wants both of her aunts to speak at her careers day, much to carmilla and laura's surprise when they realise they're there for the same child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where I'm from we don't do career days, but we do call every close friend of our parents 'Auntie' or 'Uncle' despite not being related in any way at all.
> 
> I kind of fell in love with Flick whilst writing this. She's the biggest Hollstein shipper out there.

“Auntie Laura, Auntie Laura, Auntie Laura!” The child came racing into Laura’s apartment as soon as she opened the door, an exhausted and weary Lola Perry behind her, not even attempting to chase after her daughter. Laura laughed at the spectacle, bending down in preparation for the tiny, ginger ball of thunder about to crash into her arms.

“Hey there, Flick!” She stood up once her grip was secure enough, whirling her around but stopping once she saw Perry’s alarmed expression. “Sorry,” Laura quickly muttered. Lafontaine and Perry had been parents for five years now, but she was still learning boundaries when it came to childcare. Luckily, Perry was used to her minor mistakes, and handed Laura a tin of freshly-baked goods in a clever ploy to get Laura to put her daughter down.

It worked. Laura let the ginger munchkin slide down her (though a small, chubby hand still held her own in a death grip), and shut the door behind Perry once she had stepped inside. “Thanks!” she grinned, always willing to receive anything which had been made by her friend, and definitely the best chef she knew. “Uhm, if I’d known you were going to visit I would have cleaned a bit more…” she added as an afterthought as her visitors followed her into the kitchen, knowing Perry was too observant to not notice the scattered collection of files, empty food packages and newspapers scattered throughout each room. A Perry-visit usually meant spending a good hour scrubbing the apartment, to ensure Perry could leave without doing it herself. Laura had a feeling this surprise meeting would end exactly like that.

“We’re going to the park,” Felicity - better known as Flick - answered (though she still hadn’t quite mastered her inside voice), “but Mummy said we can stop here first because I have an _important_ question for you. ” The small child seemed proud of herself, and exuded excitement, her two braids hitting the sides of her face as she swung herself around on the spot. “Can I ask her, Mummy?”

Laura smiled as she placed the tin on the counter and opened it, hands instinctively going for the brownie at the top of the pile. She never knew how much she needed one of Perry’s perfect brownies until they were right in front of her in all their crumbly, baked goodness. Whilst distracted by the box of what would definitely be her dinner that night, Perry had nodded silent permission to her daughter, who was clambering up one of the chairs at the kitchen counter to sit waist-level with Laura.

“We’re having a careers day at school!” She yelled again, and Laura laughed around a mouthful of chocolate deliciousness, unsure if this was related to the ‘important question’ but enjoying the conversation with her little niece regardless. “Both my Mummies are busy because they have a shpesh-al meeting about big girl things,” the child announced, stuttering over her ‘s’ sounds but getting there in the end. Laura looked at her patiently, eyes glittering. “Can you come into my school and talk about being a digestive journ’list?”

Laura couldn’t help but laugh again at her given job title - nothing amused her more than Flick’s innocent vocabulary - but she tried her best to suppress it, hooking her hands under Felicity’s armpits to lift her up and place her on top of the counter.

“Really?! I would _love_ to do that! ” she grinned, matching her enthusiasm to the level her niece never failed to radiate, and whirling the girl around again whilst Perry distracted herself with tidying up some of Laura’s characteristic mess.

* * *

“Auntie ‘Milla, Auntie ‘Milla, Auntie ‘Milla!” Usually, unexpected and persistent knocking at her door would annoy her, but hearing her favourite kid’s voice smoothed the frown from her face immediately. Carmilla opened the door with a grin on her face, hands smoothing the curly ginger hair on top of the moppet’s head as she hugged Carmilla’s knees. “Hey Munchkin!” she laughed, attempting to wiggle a leg free before looking up at the other person at her doorstep. “Laf. Learn how to control your spawn yet?” She smirked at her friend, widening the door so the two could come in.

“Of course not. She came out of the womb with more energy than the sun produces,” Lafontaine joked back, though the bags under their eyes suggested they didn’t find their child’s hyperactivity as endearing as others did. “Sorry for coming without warning. We’re on our way to martial arts, but Flick really needs the toilet. Do you mind?” The scientist looked behind Carmilla’s shoulder and saw her laptop and notes scattered across her table. They at least had the audacity to look sheepish.

Carmilla turned around to look at Felicity, who was jumping up and down on the spot with her legs crossed. Sure, Carmilla was in the middle of writing her lecture notes for next week’s classes, but she wasn’t a _monster_.  “Go pee, kid,” she chuckled, ruffling her hair again before she ran towards the bathroom. “You want something to drink, Beaker?”

Laf pretended to be offended by the nickname, but was too grateful at having a chance to sit down, child-free, to come up with one of their own. “No, I’m fine. We’ll be late if we stay too long, and martial arts is pretty much the only way to tire the little demon out.”

She had been confused when she heard from Perry that the couple had enrolled their child in karate - apparently it was a suggestion from their other close friend, the one they were always trying to get Carmilla to meet (since they’d apparently ‘get along too well’, though Carmilla was doubtful), but their schedules had never lined up. However, after picking Flick up from a lesson once, the brunette definitely saw the benefits: the kid spoke in a  _ normal _ level voice, and didn’t try and run away on the route home once.

“MOPPA, CAN AUNTIE CARMILLA TALK ABOUT FILO-FLO-FEE AT SCHOOL?”

The yell shocked both of them out of any further conversation, both snapping their heads towards the closed bathroom door where Flick was shouting louder than usual. Carmilla raised her eyebrows at the butchered name of her subject - in the child’s defence, philosophy wasn’t the easiest of words, and her mispronunciations were always a great source of entertainment if nothing else. That aside, Carmilla had no idea what the rest of the request actually meant, and turned back to Laf to hopefully get some clarification.

“Oh! Flick’s school are doing a career’s day, but Perr and I couldn’t get out of a meeting that day. She was pretty upset about it,” Laf frowned, clearly aggravated that the working pair had to disappoint their daughter. Being the owners of a world-renowned technology company had its perks, but increased family-time certainly wasn’t one of them.

A flush and the sound of the tap running filled the silence, before the bathroom door was flung open and Felicity came running back out, her arms snaking their way around Carmilla’s legs once again. “Pleeeeaaasseeeeeee?” She over enunciated and batted her eyelashes. Carmilla found herself rolling her eyes in an attempt to save face, but everyone in the room know there wasn’t anything Flick could ask for that her aunt could refuse. “Filo-sophie is cool and I want my friends to know about it.”

She could have drop-kicked Carmilla, jumped up and down on her ribs, and raided her fridge, and Carmilla still would have said yes. Lafontaine smirked, definitely aware of this, and Flick looked up at her through her curls, eyes expectant.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she conceded, smiling softly down at the girl.

* * *

Laura didn’t feel down too often.

Well, okay, that wasn’t entirely true. She was only human after all. But she made a point of not letting herself get too down in public; it wasn’t very productive. No, she’d much rather keep a smile on her face and fake it till she makes it. Being sad is for blanket forts and Netflix marathons and binge-eating. Adult, private stuff.

Not for a kindergarten classroom.

Really, she didn’t have much reason to feel down. She was surrounded by babbling five-year olds, one of whom was her niece, who she loved enough to take the day off of work for. Flick was sitting on the carpet, surrounded by other tiny people, but catching Laura’s eye and waving erratically every few minutes. And if that smile couldn’t make someone forget all their problems, then nothing could.

But she could also see parents dropping their children off to the school, ‘ _ I love you _ ’s and ‘ _ I’ll miss you _ ’s filling the air. All that reminded Laura of was the fact that other than Laf, Perry and Flick, who she didn’t see much because of work, she had no one to say ‘I love you’ or ‘I’ll miss you too’ to.

And, you know. That’s kind of a bummer. She should probably focus on something else other than her miserable, failing and non-existent love life.

Just in time to distract her from her broody thoughts, the teacher clapped her hands together, a signal the children quickly understood. They all sat down crossed-legged on the carpet, eyes wide and attention focused on the teacher at the front of the room, ready to begin their careers day. Laura readied herself to listen to the first parent - a lawyer, from what she gathered - since her own turn wasn’t until as least half-way through the session, when a latecomer entered the room as quietly as possible. Laura threw one look at the person’s way, though found herself unable to turn away.

The woman was  _ stunning _ . The kind of attractiveness that made someone who  _ writes _ for a living lose all ability to form a coherent sentence. The kind of gorgeousness that can pull off wearing a professional working shirt and blazer, but with leather trousers and black boots. The kind of beauty that made Laura  _ so _ grateful that Lafontaine and Perry made a mini-them so that she could be here, in that precise moment, to see the most breathtaking woman who ever existed.

Catching her staring, the brunette smirked slightly, and winked at Laura. Eyes going wide in embarrassment, her nervous system finally caught up with her screaming thoughts, and Laura was able to snap her head back to the front of the classroom. Flick was grinning her way - or, at least, Laura thought she was, since the kid didn’t stop jiggling enough for her to tell - and Laura smiled back, gesturing with her hand that she should turn to the front and listen to the lawyer-lady.

“Is this seat taken?” The voice was somehow melodic whilst having a certain roughness to it. Laura knew immediately who it belonged to, and made sure not the meet the woman’s eyes, lest she not be able to look away again. Instead, she focused her gaze on the buttons of the brunette’s jacket, hoping it didn’t look too suspicious (not that she had much more pride left to save). “Yes! Wait - no, I mean, no. As in, yes you can sit here, no it’s not taken.” Now was not a good time to babble at a stranger, but the woman didn’t look perturbed as she sat down beside Laura, instead smiling in amusement.

She kept her voice low, not wanting to distract the children, and Laura continued to not meet her eye. “Thanks, Cupcake,” she answered, and Laura blushed, looking down at the cupcake wrapper in her hands. Had she been alone, she so would have picked at every crumb in the wrapper. Not that anyone needed to know that.

“No problem.” Her own voice was rushed, and figuring that her interaction with the most attractive person on the planet was over, she shifted her body so she was facing the class again. Her eyes immediately went to Felicity, who was moving around even more now, eyes gleeful as she looked over at the parents. Laura couldn’t help but frown; Flick had been so excited to hear from the different speakers that morning, but couldn’t seem to pay attention to them anymore. She felt slightly guilty; maybe she’d been distracting her by talking to the woman.

Glancing up at the teacher who, when meeting her eye, gave Laura a slight nod, she shifted forward on her seat, whisper Felicity’s name to get her attention. She felt the woman sit up straighter beside her, but was too focused on her niece to properly notice. “Hey! Hey, Flick, you need to face the front, okay?” she whispered, pointing at the lawyer who was showing the class pictures of prisoners in jail (which didn’t seem like the best thing to show a bunch of young children). “I can’t!” came the reply, though definitely not in a whisper. The other parents began to whisper amongst themselves, and Laura winced, placing a finger on her lips to try and get Flick to quiet down. “I have the _wiggles_! ”

Some of the mums and dads let out laughs at that, including the current speaker - who luckily didn’t seem annoyed at the little interruption. Grinning at having made the room laugh, Flick had the same glint in her eyes that Laf got when coming up with a new, likely-dangerous experiment. It was slightly terrifying. Laura swallowed down her own giggle at her niece’s explanation, calling on her inner-Perry to set a better example. “Wiggle towards the front, please.”

Huh. She’d never used an authoritarian-aunt voice before. It felt strange on her tongue, but also kind of exhilarating; Flick seemed confused too, but did as she was told, wiggling in her seat still but at least paying better attention (which seemed like a win in Laura’s book). She sat back properly on her seat again, pride filling her chest as she readied herself to actually listen to the lawyer-mum, though was pulled out of focus yet again when the brunette tapped her on the shoulder.

* * *

Carmilla watched as the cutie next to her - the one she caught staring - leaned forward and addressed Felicity. She couldn’t help but frown; surely other parents weren’t allowed to tell other children what to do like that? Then again, the woman had called her ‘Flick’, so maybe she knew her. But still. It didn’t bode well with her that she’d interfere like that - especially since Carmilla probably should have been the one to do it, considering Flick was in her care today and all.

Maybe the kid was so energetic because she’d seen Carmilla come in late, and hadn’t had a chance to say hello to her yet. Guilt began to build inside of her as she dwelled on that thought; the guest lecturer taking her class that day had needed some resources, so she had had to run over to the university and pass them on before racing back to the kindergarten. Luckily she hadn’t needed to take Flick into school herself - with Perry has a mother, the girl had probably never been late in her life.

She wasn’t sure if Lafontaine and Perry would want her to say anything, but figured it was better to just do so anyway (failing at something and then winging the aftermath was kind of her go-to parenting technique, after all). She leant forward, tapping the blonde on the shoulder lightly to get her attention.

“Hey, do you know Felicity?” The woman was looking at her with wide eyes, and Carmilla found herself getting lost in their light. She needed to pull herself together; getting distracted by a pretty woman definitely wasn’t on the agenda for a kindergarten careers day. “It’s just, she’s my niece, so--”

“Wait, she’s _your_ niece? ” The woman interrupted her suddenly, and if Carmilla wasn’t so affronted at her integrity as an aunt being questioned, she would have fallen in love with that voice immediately. “Flick is _my_ niece! ”

Oh. Carmilla frowned, tilting her head as the room began to clap; the lawyer’s speech must be over. She, quite frankly, had no idea what was going on anymore. This was supposed to be a simple day - tell some kids about (extremely) simplified philosophy, start marking the latest batch of essays, watch Jessica Jones, sleep. Her only saving grace was that the other woman - Flick’s _other_ aunt - was just as confused as she was.  “How-- I..what?”

_ Smooth, Carmilla _ . She was really losing her touch. Lack of practice.

“Oh! Are you Laf’s friend -- Carmilla?” She nodded in confirmation, wishing that she had stopped at a coffee shop before leaving the university. This kind of situation could only be resolved with a caffeinated, functioning brain. “Cool! I’m Laura Hollis. Laf and Perry talk about you all the time, but we keep on missing each other,” the woman - _Laura_ \- continued, and Carmilla used all of her energy to think of something smart and witty to say, because sitting there dumbfounded was _not_ doing good things for her reputation.

She was saved from any improvised dialogue by Felicity herself, however. The teacher had arranged for there to be five minute breaks in between each speaker to make sure the kids didn’t get too distracted, and Flick had run over to her two aunts as soon as they were dismissed from the carpet, barrelling right into Carmilla’s legs.

“Careful, Munchkin!” She tried to sound reprimanding, but accompanied by her lifting Felicity up and placing her on her lap, the words lacked any menacing tone. “You wanna tell us why you’ve got two people here to speak for you when all the other kids just have one?”

Carmilla could feel Laura’s eyes on her, but kept her own on Flick, whose lips began to pout in the tell-tale sign than she was about to admit to doing something wrong. Last time Carmilla had seen this look, Flick had broken a vase when she was babysitting. It never came with good things.

“I did a bad thing,” she whispered, picking at her nails and not meeting neither Carmilla nor Laura’s eyes. The pout and puppy-dog eyes combined together were designed to kill Carmilla, she was sure. Her niece could admit to murder right now and she wouldn’t be able to find it in herself to care.

“Hey now, why don’t you tell us what it is first before getting all mopey about it,” Laura interjected, her voice light and fingers reaching over to tickle Felicity’s arm gently. The girl immediately perked up, and Laura didn’t move back in her chair; her shoulder remained pressed against Carmilla’s own, which she definitely wasn’t going to complain about. “Well,” the little monster started out, elongating the word in a familiar way which made Laura chuckle alongside Carmilla, “my Mummy thinks Auntie Laura is speaking about digestive journ’lism today, but my Moppa thinks Auntie ‘Milla is speaking about filo-fanee, but they never worked it out that it’s both of you! And I didn’t want to choose or make one of you sad. But it’s okay because you’re both here, and now you can both speak!”

Carmilla turned to look at Laura, who was meeting her eyes this time instead of staring at her blazer. Her hazelnut irises were soft - like melted chocolate - and there was no hint of annoyance on her face (to Flick’s delight). Carmilla smiled at her, unable not to, before they both faced Felicity again, their movements simultaneous.

“It’s not good that you tricked your Mummies like that,” Laura started, her words slow as if she was just as unfamiliar with this kind of childcare situation as Carmilla was. She decided to nod in agreement - Flick was sneaky, but if they joined forces they would probably be able to resist the kid’s perfected pouty face. “And it’s not good that you tricked _us_ like that, ” Carmilla continued, and the level of gratefulness on Laura’s faced made it seem like she saved her from death itself.

Neither of the two knew quite how to proceed, but Flick looked on them expectedly, clearly used to more strategic lectures than this sorry attempt.

“But, uhm...no harm, no foul?” Carmilla watched Laura wince as the words left her mouth, and couldn’t help but let out a laugh - genuine, shocked, and enough of a prompt to send Flick (who definitely knew she’d be getting away with this from the start) into a peal of giggles.

Laura ran a hand through her hair and Carmilla’s laughter stopped, overcome with a need to watch the way toned arms lifted soft, highlighted strands, before allowing them to cascade once more over her shoulder. She swallowed, and lifted Felicity up again before her little feet hit the floor. “I think the teacher’s calling you, kid,” she quickly let out, hoping Laura didn’t notice the growing redness on her cheeks. Flick nodded, eager to get back to the lesson, and ran back to the carpet where the other kids were reassembling.

* * *

Chuckling under her breath has Felicity ran back to the centre of the classroom, Laura turned back to face Carmilla, no longer finding her eyes too intimidating to meet now she’d seen her interact with her niece -  _ their _ niece.

“It’s kind of comforting that you’re not an expert at that either.” She watched as Carmilla quirked a perfectly-shaped eyebrow her way at the conversation-starter, and quickly stumbled over her words, internally cursing herself at her inability to make good first impressions. “I mean, that her puppy eyes and pouty lips work on you too. I’ve always been a sucker for them.” Carmilla was still smiling, a hint of amusement still in her eyes, which Laura took as a sign _not_ to run out of the room that second.

“So, you’re a digestive journalist?” Carmilla’s voice was different to when she was talking to Felicity - more playful, and Laura would totally think she was flirting if she hadn’t already made a fool of herself at least seven times. She laughed at the brunette’s imitation of Flick, and matched her smirk as she got more comfortable in her seat. “And _you’re_ a filo-faner. That’s quite impressive. ”

Carmilla hummed in agreement, her eyes roaming Laura’s body in a way she certainly was not trying to hide, as the teacher introduced the next parent-speaker. Laura couldn’t help but blush again, but kept up her confident aura, raising her eyebrows once Carmilla’s eyes reached her face again.

“Isn’t it weird that we’ve never met before?” the brunette mused out loud, speaking the thought that had been swimming through Laura’s mind since she found out the attractive stranger was Carmilla Karnstein, the woman Lafontaine had been trying to set her up with for at least six years now. It wasn’t that she was _unwilling_ \- but for the majority of her friendship with Perry and Laf she had been with Danny, and once that stopped working, she immersed herself in enough work to ensure she didn’t have time to wonder why she hadn’t really dated since.

If she’d known Carmilla was like this - not just insanely hot, but also adorable with Felicity and protective of her, if her beginning to berate Laura for controlling an unknown child was anything to go by - then she probably would have agreed all those times. Though she wasn’t the only busy one - on the movie nights and game nights and family group outings she  _ had _ attended, there was always an empty place for Carmilla there. Presumably, her own empty seat was there when Carmilla did join them.

“Well, I’m glad that we’re meeting now,” Laura smiled. She wasn’t sure if it was the vibrancy and brightness of the setting, or the sugar-rush her recently-devoured cupcake was giving her, but she felt compelled by an unknown force to ask Carmilla something she probably wouldn’t have done in any other circumstance.

(Maybe it helped that Flick was still watching them from the carpet, her wiggles now officially out of control.)

“I was going to take Felicity to get some ice-cream after school. If you’d like, I’m sure Flick would love it if you came too.” She paused for a moment, before inhaling quickly, adding on to her offer. “And _I’d_ really like it if you came too. ”

She watched as Carmilla contemplated her words, and she was already formulating a way to pretend she actually wasn’t  _ that _ invested in continuing getting to know the brunette, when she answered.

“I think I’d really like that too. Maybe when the tyke goes home, we could get dinner as well.”

Laura grinned wider than she had done in a while, and decided that she had never loved Flick more than she did in that precise moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please take two more minutes out of your day to vote for Elise Bauman at csa.votenow.tv to make sure she goes home with the CSA award she deserves! :)


	3. the most beautiful woman in the world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'every single time i run into The Most Beautiful Woman In The World i look like a LITERAL DUMPSTER TROLL that has just CRAWLED OUT OF ITS GARBAGE HOUSE in search of FREE WIFI AND A SLURPEE' 
> 
> [based on [this amazing story](https://ofgeography.tumblr.com/post/144981655676/the-most-beautiful-man-in-the-world-who-lives-in) and [this fic too](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7020103/chapters/15979321)]

**“** I need to move apartments, **”** Laura huffed, dramatically flopping herself onto Danny’s couch in a fit of defeat. Her flair was not graced with a verbal response - just a quirk of an eyebrow from someone who was way too used to her theatrics by now. Laura sighed again expectedly, moving her head to meet Danny’s (already amused) gaze from across the living room.

After a few seconds of staring, Danny rolled her eyes and gave in. **“** Why do you need to move from the apartment you once called the ‘best apartment with the best view and the best doorman and neighbours and security in all of Silas’, Laura? **”** she asked, not even trying to hide the sarcasm from her voice. She mumbled something else about manners and polite greetings being lost to the world, but Laura was already preparing for the rant about to fill the room to pay too much attention to it.

 **“** Did you know, **”** she started slowly, the day’s event making her feel more erratic with each passing second, **“** that sometimes I look attractive? That sometimes I look like a functional adult? That sometimes I don’t look like the cookie monster’s ostracised dying uncle? **”**

Sensing the length of the oncoming speech, Danny sat down on the armchair across from the sofa Laura had claimed for herself. **“** Have you ever made a normal simile? **”**

 **“** No. **”** Laura huffed for the umpteenth time, stretching her body so she took up the whole couch, hands resting on her stomach. Danny tried to hide her sniggers at how much the scene looked like a therapy appointment. **“** Yes, I did know those things, **”** she spoke to cover her laughs, gesturing for Laura to continue.

 **“** Well, do you know who _doesn’t_ know those things? **”** She didn’t give Danny time to answer her rhetorical question. **“** The Most Beautiful Woman In The World. **”**

She managed to control her babble for a moment, considering if this was something she should be discussing with Danny. After all, they had dated briefly in university - it fizzled out, but their friendship hadn’t. Still, should you talk to your ex-girlfriend about the current infatuation in your life?

Laura figured it was appropriate after recalling all of the early morning visits from Danny where she’d gush about her crush or go into (excruciating) detail about what she and Kirsch had done the night before (but sworn not to speak about with each other in the light of day). She looked over at the woman in question, whose eyes were glinting with amusement and no hint of resentment.

Besides, she _really_ needed to get the last few weeks of torture off of her chest before she imploded.

 **“** Danny, I live in the same building as The Most Beautiful Woman In The World. **”** She presented it as a fact - because it was - and groaned in frustration as images of _Aphrodite personified_ entered her mind again. **“** She looks like how Perry’s fresh brownies smell when I skip breakfast. She looks like how it feels when you forget you have leftover pizza in the fridge and find it when it’s still in date. **”**

No stranger to Laura’s stylistic techniques when she’s both sleep deprived and stressed, Danny knew to interrupt her flow of comparisons before they went on for hours (they had once: Danny managed to get through four episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine before the tiny blonde tired herself out).

 **“** What does it say about your lifestyle that those were all food related, hm? **”**

All Laura could bring herself to do was moan in frustration, grabbing one of Danny’s (many) throw pillows to cover her face. **“** Every time I see her I embarrass myself, **”** she whined from under the pillow, her words just about coherent.

Danny couldn’t help but quirk her eyebrows again at that. Having been friends throughout all of university and then some, she had _definitely_ witnessed Laura do many embarrassing things. The girl had tripped on anything a person could trip on (including air and abstract concepts), choked in at least two different establishments, hugged three strangers from behind thinking they were Lafontaine (including a brunette), been so tired that she sat through an entire Art History lecture without realising she wasn’t meant to be there, and told countless waiters and waitresses ‘Love you too!’ after they gave her their meal.

Needless to say, it took a lot nowadays to embarrass Laura to the point of hiding away from the world and moaning about it. Either she made the most catastrophic mistake a human could in public, or this girl really was _that_ attractive.

She voiced these thoughts out loud to Laura, which only served to further her frustration. **“** Danny, you don’t understand. I biked to work in a _maxi dress_ but didn’t wear a helmet so when I returned home looking like a gross sweat monster, The Most Beautiful Woman In The World must of thought that my body just _sweats_ like that because there was no obvious sign that I was cycling! **”**

 **“** First of all, there’s nothing wrong with sweating. Second of all, why weren’t you wearing a helmet?! **”**

 **“** Really not the point here. Then, the next time I saw her, that grouch-face Tim from work spilt his coffee all over my _white_ shirt and I saw her in the lobby when I went home to change at lunch. Do you know who walks around with giant stains on their clothing, Danny? Kindergartners! **”**

 **“** That’s really not the worse thing that could have happened, Laura. **”**

 **“** But there’s more! I was holding two _giant_ bags of popcorn and literally had a packet of oreos hanging from my _mouth_ , and The Most Beautiful Woman In The World overheard me say to the doorman, ‘Oh, no, I’m not having a party, this is all for me!’ **”**

 **“** You really need to find out her real name, or at least make an acronym or something. **”**

 **“** And that’s not the worst thing she overheard! I had like three hours of sleep to meet a deadline and was so tired that when I dropped my backpack while opening my mail, I _spoke to it_ . She heard me speak to my inanimate bag. She heard me _chastise_ a _backpack_! **”**

 **“** I’ve got to meet Mel in, like, fifteen minutes Laura. **”**

 **“** This morning was probably the worst one. I tripped on my laces - stop laughing, you know I have inverted feet! I tripped on my laces and fell _into_ the elevator. Which wasn’t empty, as it usually is at _five in the morning_ , but had The Most Beautiful Woman In The World in it. And she was leaning against the back of it, wearing a leather jacket and a smirk and she’s probably _never_ tripped over anything in her life except maybe everyone who faints at her feet when they see her _jawline_ . And I fell right in to her Danny! I touched The Most Beautiful Woman In The World! And she smiled and asked if I was okay and I got all flustered and said I liked her top even though I’ve _never_ heard of whatever band that was, and then I pretended that the next floor was mine - which it wasn’t - and do you know what I did? **”**

 **“** You fell off of the elevator? **”**

 **“** I fell off of the elevator! **”**

Finally exhaling, Laura flopped back down on the sofa (though she hadn’t even realised she had sat up during her lengthy rant). Knowing it was over, Danny let out the laughter she’d been holding in since Laura stormed into her apartment, a storm brewing on her bunched-up face. Throwing her head back, Laura’s pouting only spurred her hysteria on.

Groaning and moving the pillow back over her head, Laura scrunched her eyes shut, knowing she wouldn’t be able to look The Most Beautiful Woman In The World in the eyes again.

 

* * *

 

 **Laura || 12.04  
** i have an EMERGENCY

 **Danny || 12.05  
** Are you okay?  
What’s happening?  
Laura, I will come over in two minutes if you don’t reply soon.

 **Laura || 12.07  
** please tell me you’re not on your way over  
to clarify, i didn’t mean ~emergency~ emergency

 **Danny || 12.07  
** If this is about ‘The Most Beautiful Woman In The World’ then I’m cancelling Pie Thursday.

 **Laura || 12.08  
** noooooooo! :(  
i’ll rephrase next time  
but this is an emergency  
a code leather

 **Danny || 12.10  
** ‘Code Leather’ isn’t a thing.  
What did you do this time. It better be worth the brief heart attack you gave me.

 **Laura || 12.12  
** WELL  
in order to avoid any future embarrassment, i decided to hide from tmbwitw from now on  
i finally see the point of that inconveniently placed pillar in the middle of my building’s lobby  
anyway, was hiding there pretending to text because i saw her getting her mail  
then she turned around and i saw it  
a CAT in her ARMS. a baby CAT. a KITTEN. and you know what she did?  
tmbwitw KISSED ITS LITTLE FLUFFY FOREHEAD.  
and it was such a overwhelming combination of beauty and cuteness that i FELL DOWN.

 **Danny || 12.14  
** Why am I not surprised?

 **Laura || 12.15  
** so attractive that my legs decided to quit their day job  
and when i fell, obviously my hiding place became defective  
because i was effectively squatting in the middle of the lobby  
i look down at my feet to CURSE THEM  
and i see a pair of combat boots across from me and look up and who was it? WHO WAS IT?  
a goddess holding a baby kitten.

 **Danny || 12.17  
** She came over to see if you were okay? That’s sweet of her.

 **Laura || 12.18  
** SWEET?  
she probably hadn’t had enough fun that day so thought she’d go and look at the local FREAK to remind herself that she is too attractive for this building that doesn’t deserve her beauty

 **Danny || 12.18  
** Are you being self-deprecating again? Because last time you did this we made a task force and don’t think that I’m too busy to do that now.

 **Laura || 12.20  
** not self-deprecating, danny. just realistic  
i’m not saying she’s a jerk - i don’t even know her, and she did come over to me to help me up (the kitten just sat on her shoulder like it was her familiar or something can you BELIEVE) and she didn’t even mention how i pathetically and spontaneously just dropped to the floor  
her cats name is mimsie. i wanted to cry

 **Danny || 12.21  
** Why’s it not realistic that you could one day have an actual conversation (not prompted by you falling somewhere) with a woman who's your age, your type, and seems to be genuinely nice and caring?  
That’s literally the sapphic dream, Laura

 **Laura || 12.22  
** it isn’t realistic because she is _too_ attractive. i’ve never been silent in my life but she makes my thoughts stop. i just stop thinking and functioning. she’s way out of my league  
whenever i see her, she’s awake just as early as i am, but has done her hair and make-up and is wearing a outfit that she probably put together the night before. she has her life together. i still don’t know how student loans work and i graduated a year ago  
my dating experience hasn’t exactly been the best. it’s not like that’s going to change with someone this attractive and functioning and perfect. putting myself out there will just make me sad

 **Danny || 12.24  
** You seriously underestimate how many people would die to have you as a girlfriend. I’ve never seen this girl, but I know you’re not out of her league. Having dessert for breakfast and breakfast for dessert doesn’t mean you’re any less of a catch. No one has their lives together at this age.  
Seriously. Give yourself a break. She’d be lucky to have you.

 **Laura || 12.28  
** i think i’m going to call it a night, i don’t want to think about it anymore  
see you on pie thursday

 

* * *

 

Laura closed her apartment door behind her, kicking off her shoes with a sigh of relief. She loved her job, possibly more than she ever thought she would, but some days it was as if it were out to get her. Dealing with sexist Tim (who joined at the same time as her, but just _loved_ to explain everything as if he was the owner), a broken coffee machine and the IT department unable to recover a week’s work of research for her upcoming feature article was enough to kill a girl.

She’d settle for a movie marathon in pajamas and cereal for dinner instead.

Which, of course, was exactly what she was in the middle of doing when she heard a knock at her door. Laura frowned - it was past 8pm, and she wasn’t expecting anyone. Deciding it had to be maintenance or management or something, she got up to open the door, pajama pants with little dancing cupcakes and white tank top and all.

It took all of her willpower not to shut the door in her unexpected visitor’s face.

 **“** Uhm, hey? **”**   

The Most Beautiful Woman In The World was standing outside her door, wearing _leather pants_ , because apparently Laura hadn’t experienced heart palpitations recently enough. Her hair was down, side parting leaving some dark curls cascading across her face. Her eyes lit up slightly when Laura opened the door - or perhaps she was so blinded by beauty that she was hallucinating things now - and even though her eyeliner was slightly smudged, she was still breathtaking.

 **“** Hey, **”** the woman smirked (her natural state, apparently), taking in Laura’s appearance with a quick roaming of her eyes. Laura couldn’t tell if she was being checked out or judged for already being in cupcake pajamas. She blushed either way.

 **“** Can I, er, help you, or something? Did you knock on the wrong apartment door? I’ve totally done that before. **”** Great. She definitely had no filter in front of attractive brunettes who made impromptu visits to practical-strangers.

Luckily, the woman didn’t run away at that. Instead she chuckled - a kind laugh that Laura definitely wanted to hear more of - and her smirk shifted into a small smile. **“** No, cutie, **”** she began, but if the way her eyes widened slightly was any sign, she probably didn’t intend for the nickname to slip out. **“** I mean - the doorman had a package with your name on. I offered to take it up to you, it looked important. **”**

Laura hadn’t noticed the brown envelope in her visitor’s hands until then (too distracted by her eyes and her hair and her cheekbones and her - well, that list could go on forever). She opened it quickly, heart fluttering slightly when The Most Beautiful Woman In The World didn’t immediately walk away once finishing her mission, and couldn’t help but jump slightly in excitement when she saw the contents. **“** My research! **”** The IT department must have found the backup on the hard-drive and printed it off for her after she left the office. **“** You just saved my life, **”** she met the brunette’s eyes, grinning widely.

The woman bit her lip slightly, and it took all of Laura’s willpower not to fall to the floor at the sight. She seemed to be considering something, tilting her head and subtly peering inside Laura’s apartment. Hopefully the box of Count Chocula on the couch that Laura had been eating directly out of wasn’t visible from her viewpoint.

 **“** Maybe you could pay back some time, **”** she spoke slowly, eyes returning back to meet Laura’s, which widened almost comically in surprise. Because this couldn’t be happening. The Most Beautiful Woman In The World couldn’t be flirting with her. The pinnacle of human attractiveness couldn’t be asking her out (or, more accurately, asking _her_ to ask her out).

After a quick inhale to try and calm her racing pulse, Laura knew the size of the smile on her face couldn’t be normal, but also couldn’t quite bring herself to care.

 **“** How about coffee tomorrow? **”**

 **“** It’s a date. **”** It didn’t seem possible, but her _date_ ’s smile was just as bright as hers, if not more.

The brunette took a step back away from the threshold of Laura’s apartment, and the blonde found herself wishing it was acceptable to ask her to stay.

 **“** Oh, **”** she looked back at Laura over her shoulder as she walked away, perfect smirk gracing her features again. **“** I’m Carmilla, cupcake. See you tomorrow. **”**

Her life was no romantic comedy, but when Laura closed the door behind Carmilla, she couldn’t help but lean against it, letting out a squeal as she thanked whatever God of Mischief who allowed The Most Beautiful Woman In The World to move in to her building.

 

* * *

 

 **Laura || 21.34  
** just made out with the most beautiful hottest most attractive kindest sweetest funniest smartest person in the world. how was your day :)

 **Danny || 22.01  
** Never doubt me again!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to everyone who has read, liked and commented! if you have any requests for the next two chapters, please let me know in the comments/message me on tumblr! i need the prompting, lets be real.
> 
> [[@lauratothelettter]]


	4. i said hey - what's going on?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why does no one tell me if we have people over. I just walked downstairs wearing a ‘say hey if you’re gay’ t-shirt and batman boxers. We had 8 people over. [@kabudy]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two of these stories now rely on the fact that lafontaine and perry just can't be fucked to introduce their friends to each other

“Have you got any darks for the wash?”

Carmilla called out the words, then caught her own reflection in the bathroom mirror, wondering how she - the girl who had the infamously messy dorm room in university - got into this situation. Before Lafontaine had let her crash on their couch for three weeks (her own apartment building being shut down for renovations, and Mattie’s apartment being too far out from work), Carmilla had never cared about separating lights from darks. Hell, she never _had_ separated her lights from darks, considering the majority of her wardrobe was made up of the latter. Over a week of living with Lafontaine, and she wasn’t only doing both of their washing: she was cooking, cleaning after herself, even pulling her hair out of the shower drain.

It was disgusting.

Shaking her head and scoffing at herself, Carmilla moved out of the bathroom, and right into Lafontaine (whose face was hidden by a towering pile of laundry). “Should have asked you to move in forever ago,” the ginger spoke as they dumped the clothes into Carmilla’s unexpecting arms, grinning in thanks before she could even protest. “Yeah, don’t get used to this,” Carmilla retorted, struggling not to drop any loose socks as she stumbled towards her own bag of laundry. “Think of it as repayment for letting me crash here.”

The answer earned an eye roll from Lafontaine, who, since the pair had met, had been perpetually frustrated by Carmilla’s complex of never accepting anything from anyone without giving something in return (a fear of being a freeloader, likely an occupational hazard of growing up with more privilege than Laf would ever be exposed too).

“You’re not going to the basement like that, right?” The conversation topic changed from Carmilla’s sudden and uncharacteristic generosity to her chosen laundry-day outfit: batman boxers serving as shorts (a gag gift that she appreciated more than she should), and an oversized black t-shirt with the slogan ‘ _Say Hey If You’re Gay!_ ’ slanted across it in bold red letters. Carmilla could understand Lafontaine’s concern; not that the scientist was one to talk when it came to questionable fashion choices in the comfort of one’s own (temporary) home.

“It’s the middle of the afternoon on a Sunday, Laf. Who’s going to see?”

With that answer, Carmilla lifted her two bags of dirty laundry - if anything was going to come out of actually doing chores, it better be arm muscles - and closed the apartment door behind her, leaving Lafontaine trying to contain their laughter.

They never got a chance to tell Carmilla that guests would be round before the washing was done.

 

➵ ➵ ➵

 

Carmilla huffed as she dragged the freshly-washed clothes behind her, cursing the building’s elevator for breaking down _again_ \- because the washing machines were located in the basement, and Lafontaine’s floor number was in the double digits.

“I’m going to kill the lackwit that’s in charge of maintenance in this hell hole,” she announced loudly after entering the apartment, throwing the bags of clean clothes down in the hall before walking into the living room, where she assumed Lafontaine was.

She was right. Lafontaine was sitting on the sofa (Carmilla’s makeshift-bed by night), looking over the back of it to grin wolfishly at her. She didn’t have time to be confused as to why Laf looked like Christmas came early, because it became immediately clear that they weren’t alone anymore.

Sitting to the left of Laf was Perry; Carmilla had met her at the same time as her current roommate, and the two formed an unlikely friendship despite their polar-opposite attitudes. Perry would make Carmilla baked goods to get her through writing her dissertation, and Carmilla quickly became the fiercely protective older sister that Perry never asked for, but couldn’t appreciate more.

If it had just been Perry occupying the apartment, there wouldn’t have been a problem. But of course, the universe would never be that kind to her.

Sitting on the floor and leaning against the sofa was a threateningly-tall ginger that Carmilla recognised from a few parties of Perry’s or Laf’s that she’d been to. The girl (whose name never quite stuck) wasn’t actually that bad, but they’d gotten off on a bad foot and decided to maintain the petty feud whenever they saw each other next, for sake of having something to do if nothing else. Sticking to this role, the Amazon sent a glare Carmilla’s way. She was more than happy to send her best one back.

In the arm chair (sitting way too close to the TV than could be healthy) was another tall person - although thankfully this time not a ginger. Carmilla didn’t recognise him, but he seemed harmless enough: he didn’t turn when she entered the room, too enraptured with smiling goofily at the television.

Sitting crossed legged on the other side of the sofa was Mel Callis. Carmilla didn’t know her too well, but she had been in the same sorority as the other ginger. Mel was definitely more tolerable, and though they hadn’t spent time together alone, they got on well at social events. The girl had a quirked eyebrow, and even Carmilla - who usually exuded confidence - felt a blush growing on her cheeks.

The last guest in the room was standing, having been rooting through a cabinet drawer (likely for Lafontaine’s impressive take-out menu collection) when Carmilla made her dramatic entrance. She was confident she’d never seen this girl before; confident that had she seen the toned arms and legs (thank you, yoga leggings and tank tops!), cascading waterfall of hair, and the embodiment of the word ‘pretty’ in one adorable face, she definitely would have remembered.

The girl’s eyes met Carmilla’s, and they both maintained the stare. Her gaze was intense, and Carmilla began to blush harder. She was standing across the room from what was possibly the most gorgeous woman she’d ever seen (and she wasn’t ashamed to admit she’d seen and been with _many_ ), and she was probably sweating from her trek up the stairs, and was wearing her laundry day outfit.

Oh god. Her laundry day outfit.

The girl was clearly in gym clothes, but she made it look normal to walk around in leggings and tank tops - like it was business-formal adjacent. Carmilla, on the other hand, was wearing batman boxers and a t-shirt which read ‘Say Hey If You’re Gay!’.

Mortified, she’d never wanted to fall into a deep, endless pit more than that moment.

Just as she was about to turn out of the room, the girl snapped out of whatever frozen state she’d fallen into when Carmilla stumbled into the room, and mumbled something which was just about audible over the heavy silence that had taken over over the room.

“--Hey.”

 

➵ ➵ ➵

 

Laura Hollis hated herself.

It was a sentiment she didn’t think often. But at times of extremely unfortunate word-vomit, rambles and uncontrollable babbles, she wanted nothing more than to never have been born.

Now was not an exception.

It was a running-gag between her friends that when she found someone attractive, despite her very best efforts, there was nothing she could do to hide it. When she saw her first girlfriend, she choked on her lunch. When she was introduced to Danny for the first time, she completely forgot how to speak for a few moments (which doesn’t exactly go unnoticed in an English Literature class). Lafontaine had taken to constantly filming her whenever they went out, just in case such embarrassment occurred again.

The only good thing about this situation was that Lafontaine didn’t have their phone on them.

As if staring at the gorgeous stranger (who Laura assumed was Carmilla Karnstein, Laf’s friend and temporary roommate for the time being) wasn’t bad enough, as soon as Laura managed to drag her eyes away from the brunette’s bare legs (because who _wouldn’t_ stare at those legs?), she caught sight of the slogan on the girl’s shirt, and knew she was a goner.

Rationally, she knew the words weren’t an invitation to openly obsess over the fact that the woman was incredibly attractive and gay - or at least queer of some kind. Someone who looked like _that_ probably - definitely - wasn’t single. But Laura was in tiny, useless, gay shock and didn’t control what left her mouth when she was in that state.

So she answered the shirt’s command, and said ‘hey’, out loud, _too_ loud. Lafontaine immediately started laughing, not even trying to quiet their chuckles. Perry and Danny looked embarrassed on her behalf - which was somehow worse - and Mel rolled her eyes whilst Kirsch remained staring at the television, none the wiser to the homosexual mess in the room.

Carmilla’s expression didn’t changed from pained humiliation, even after Laura’s outburst, though after a few moments (still spent with Lafontaine cackling wildly in the background), the brunette began to smile, slowly but surely. Laura decided she wanted to see that face a _lot_ , lot more.

“Lafontaine,” Carmilla spoke slowly, and Laura suddenly remembered the stories she’d heard about her: rebellious, wild, uncontrollable, enticing. “I am not doing your laundry anymore.”

The room sniggered at that - Laura included, managing to shake herself out of her stupor - all knowing all too well that Lafontaine depended very much on the laundry skills of others; they may be a scientist, but they were also incredibly apt at shrinking shirts and turning socks blue.

Laughter continued to fill the room even after Carmilla left to presumably (and regrettably) get changed, although it was clearly at Laura’s expense. Huffing her hair out of her face and refusing to address her verbal slip, she opted to fan the take-out menus on the carpet before sitting cross-legged in front of them, eyebrows furrowing as she tried her best to focus on the myriad of choices rather than Lafontaine’s continued cackles.

So concentrated, Laura almost missed the movement beside her as leather trousers, red flannel and chocolate-coloured hair sat down at her side. Laura tore her eyes away from the list of vegetarian curries to make eye contact with Carmilla (it took a Herculean effort, especially considering how attractive she was in her pajamas, let alone a put-together outfit). By some miracle, her embarrassment and stress at being in such close proximity to someone who would likely feature in her dreams for the next few months somehow eased when Carmilla offered her a shy yet confident smile.

“Hey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know if you have any requests for the last one !! [i.e. i have nooo clue ah]
> 
> ((find me on tumblr @lauratothelettter))

**Author's Note:**

> [[find me on tumblr @lauratothelettter !]]


End file.
